Monsters vs Aliens: Barking at The Moon
by jojo-dojo
Summary: Molly Richardson has been struggling to cope with life after a traumatic werewolf bite at the age of 13. Now 18, she finds herself in the hands of a secret government facility with our favorite elite-team of monsters that protect earth from aliens after a road trip gone wrong to Las Vegas. Now has to face the problem she's been running from for years: her inner werewolf.
1. Chapter 1: What Happens in Vegas

Waking up in an unfamiliar place (what looked like a mock hotel room in a steel enclosure), wearing unfamiliar clothes (a short sleeve orange shirt and some sweat pants and god awful tennis shoes), and inhaling a certain distasteful odor, (don't even make me guess) wasn't how I expected this day to go. Especially after a breakdown like that. Let me just say that was a doozy, never again will I be able to step foot anywhere in public, for as long as I live. I rubbed my head and realized my hair was down. Just the way I hated it, all greasy and long. Plus, I never really had the face shape for long hair. Or, short hair for that matter. I looked in a mirror beside my bed that hung loosely on the wall and stuck my tongue out in utter disgust at my unattractive appearance.

From my ill shaped, thick eyebrows, to my boney shoulders to my large and buggy brown eyes, I looked like the waking dead. I stroked my hair and popped my back on the by stretching my toes and arching my spine. Sitting up I frowned and began to put my hair into a braid like it usually was. Then a bun, then a braid again.

"You know," said a gentle voice. "I thought it looked really pretty down."

I jumped and turned my head abruptly to see a woman in the automatic doorway scanning her hand print casually. I frowned and scooted myself into a small ball, grabbing onto my knees.

"No, not really," I said to the wall. "It looks like I haven't showered in three days when it's done like that." I fiddled with the braid.

"I used to feel the same way about my hair being short, but…it kinda grew on me," she shrugged.

"Right…" I said slowly, bringing my knees to my chest. Who was this woman? Enough of this stupid small talk. I wanted some answers. I wanted to be back in the discomfort of my home where a dysfunctional fight with my parents awaited me.

"You mind if I sit?"

I started and turned to see her standing above me. "Fine." I scooted to make room.

She was silent for a moment, then sighed, seeming to give up on trying to find the right words for this batshit crazy scenario. "I know this might be a little overwhelming - "- Overwhelming? Are you kidding? I'm terrified, I don't know what's going on, and I want out of here. My head hurts, I don't know where the hell I am, or what the hell I'm even doing here. And quite frankly, it smells like skunk shit in here!" I grimaced.

Her eyes were wide as dinner plates, and as much as I wanted answers I regretted my outburst. She seemed nice, I got the sense that she was just trying to help me.

"I'm sorry," I added quickly.

She laughed nervously and pushed her hair behind her ears. Straightening up, she held out a friendly hand.

"We're in this together, Molly. I'm Susan Murphy-er I mean 'Ginormica'. You can call me whichever you like."

I frowned, but took her hand.

"Do your parents hate you or, what…? What kind of a name is that?" I said.

She sighed and blew a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"A name the government assigns you when you suddenly grow fifty feet tall after being crushed by a meteor from outer space."

I stared at her.

"But that's a story for another time. Look, I know this is crazy, and you think you're alone. But I know exactly how you feel." She gave me a kind smile. "You're here because we received a distress call. When we answered, we found you."

I shot her a glance, fear gripping my stomach.

"But, don't worry!" She said quickly. "I promise, no one was killed."

I sighed and bowed my head.

"It was a pretty close call, but only two people were seriously hurt and I'm sure their ribs will heal up in no time!"

"Did I really do that?" I gaped. I brought my knees to my chin and buried my face, trying to hide the tears prickling my eyes.

"Hey, think about it, with those claws of your's? It could have been a lot worse." She laughed nervously and placed a hesitant hand on my shoulder.

I glared at her and she abruptly withdrew it.

"I'm sorry. That wasn't funny. Of course this isn't something to joke about."

"What's gonna happen to me?" I sniffed.

"We'll protect you." She murmured softly.

"But, how? I could have killed someone. You said it yourself, it's a miracle I didn't!"

"We'll make sure no one presses any charges. You were technically UTI, after all."

I shot her a funny look. "What does my vagina have to do with any of this?"

"What? Oh, er, sorry, I meant UTMI." She put her hand to her cheek. "That's code for 'under the monster influence'." Her cheeks reddened as she crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap.

I stayed in my little ball, where it was nice, cozy, and away from prying eyes.

"Nothing about any of this feels real," I said tearfully.

Susan was silent for a moment.

"C'mon, how about a hot cup of cocoa? We need to get you something to eat, and make you feel properly welcomed."

"Is that your job or something?"

"Well, I have sorta become the welcome committee around here. And I need to ask you some questions. I'll explain everything, I promise. Something warm to drink might ease the headache a little…and dry those tears?"

I looked up weakly.

"Cocoa would be nice," I said quietly, letting my chin rest on my kneecap.

She chuckled and stood up, smoothing the folds in her jumpsuit.

I slowly rolled off the side of the bed and got to my feet with a grunt. Everything hurt.

Susan turned around and gave me a sympathetic look. "I know the feeling." She held out her hand. "Follow me, Molly."

I stopped in my tracks and gave her a look. How did she know my name?

She turned around and saw my bemused expression. "We have your case file," she explained. "You'll find there's not much privacy here…you get used to it after a while." She winked and scanned her hand on a touch screen. The metal doors slid open with a woosh. "After you," she held out her hand and I walked out of the room and into a large series of hallways. Workers in all sorts of uniforms and badges hurried about, some carrying boxes labeled as bio-hazardous. Interest piqued, I took a mental note.

After a long, silent trek we came to what looked like a big multi-purpose lounge, including a beaten up couch, TV, and even a kitchenette. Much of this was swallowed up by trash.

Susan immediately tensed at the overpowering stench. "Ugh! I thought I told them to clean up this dump!" She muttered under her breath in a frustrated and hushed tone.

"It smells like something died in here," I said, holding my nose.

Susan shook her head. "I wouldn't be surprised, Molly. I really wouldn't…" she rolled her eyes. "I think your room's vent might be connected." She put a hand to her forehead. "Sorry about that, maybe we can get it fixed," she said sheepishly.

I shrugged. "And here I thought it couldn't get worse," I laughed easily at my own misfortune.

"Let's get you that cocoa!" She frantically began to whip up two mugs filled to the brim with steaming hot chocolate, glazing some whipped cream on the surface. I sat on top of the counter and sipped at the chocolate dream, feeling warm for the first time since I woke up.

"So, your questions." Susan sipped at her own drink before looking pointedly at me. "The reason you're here…"

Susan was cut off by whooshing of the sliding door, and a loud, rather obnoxious voice filling the room.

"…and that's when I said, 'Watermelon? I thought you said Water felon!"

I started at the sight of the speaker and his large blue friend, who almost died at this poorly told joke. The tall, third companion entered last, looking quite exasperated. Molly stared, hardly able to process the strange bug-like creature before her. The talking jello and large fish-man weren't exactly a comforting sight either.

"First of all, Link," the bug-headed gentleman spoke with a prim British accent, "that's not the correct punch line. However, to be quite frank, that joke was hardly amusing the first hundred times you regaled us with it," he rubbed his forehead and rolled his enormous eyes, antennas suddenly perking up when he met my apprehensive gaze.

Hurrying over, he reached out to grab my hand for an enthusiastic greeting. "You must be Molly Richardson! What an absolute pleasure to finally meet you. Dr. Cockroach, p.h.d., at your service!"

Startled, my mug slipped out of my hand and fell to the floor with a crash, spilling its contents onto the rug.

"Oh, geez, I'm sorry," I said, bending down quickly to pick up the cup.

"Smooth move, kid," the fish-man crossed his arms over his chest and smirked.

I felt my face go red with embarrassment.

"Not to worry, these mugs are indestructible!" Dr. Cockroach indicated the still-intact mug. "One of my newest inventions," he smiled proudly. "Can't have breakable objects in here. Not after the…er…" he laughed nervously and cleared his throat, glancing at his friends who looked just as guilty.

Susan crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "…the hockey game?" She tapped her foot.

He clenched his fists, looking almost as embarrassed as I felt.

She just rolled her eyes and turned back to me. "Molly, these are my friends and fellow teammates. You just met the doctor. This," she smiled at the fish-man, "is Link." He gave a careless salute. "And that's Bob," she indicated the giant blue jello mold.

"Hi there!" He said with a loud and excited voice. I waved nervously.

"Wait," The blue mass grabbed his eye right out it its socket and held it closer to me. The pink eyeball looked me up and down intently.

"It's a… girl?" Bob asked wonderingly.

"Um, excuse me?" I instantly zipped up my jacket further until it almost choked me.

"Oh yeah, damn it!" Link snapped his fingers. "Alright buddy, ten bucks then." He slapped a ten dollar bill into Bob's hand.

"I don't even know what I need money for. Oh!" He snapped his fingers. "Ever since Squeep clogged toilet number twenty-three last week, a.k.a., Gerard, I've been looking for extra thin toilet paper. You know, the kind that won't harsh Gerard's mellow." Link shrugged and looked lazily at me, wincing a Dr. Cockroach slapped his arm and glared fiercely.

"Oh, um sorry," Link smiled nervously. "When you went all crazy," he said, waving his hands in the air, "I bet Bob ten bucks you'd be a badass dude who we could finally play cards with. Bob bet the opposite."

"Link, for god's sake!" Susan scolded, placing her hands on her hips.

"Jeez, tough crowd these days," he rubbed his arm nervously.

Several comebacks of my own ran through my head, but thankfully the doctor spoke up before I could make things worse.

"I apologize for my ill behaved colleagues my dear. This is…not the best crew for making good first impressions." He placed a sympathetic hand on my shoulder, and I mustered a smile despite the piece of lettuce stuck to his finger.

"Okay…Susan?"

She turned to me with a nervous smile.

"I'm ready for you to start explaining now."

As Susan and I walked together through the halls, she waved to various janitors and workers. I loved the aura she gave off. She was so open and friendly, something I wished I could be.

"So," I began. "What exactly happened when you guys found me?"

"Well, after we received the distress call, it didn't take us long to find you. Maybe, ten minutes, tops. But…getting you to calm down was a different story. You put up quite a fight."

I grinned apologetically. "Sorry about that…"

"It's totally alright," she put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "But, people were hurt. That's what you wanted to know about the most, wasn't it?"

I felt an uncomfortable churning in the pit of my stomach. "Yes."

"No one was killed, but many needed medical attention…we, um, persuaded you to come with us before any permanent damage was done."

"You got me to calm down? How did you do that?" I asked.

"Well, with a tranquilizer, yes."

"Oh."

"Sorry," Susan looked at me apologetically, but I just shrugged.

"S'okay. I probably would have tranquilized me, too. I mean, I get why you brought me here but…why am I still here?"

"Well," she stopped and looked at me frankly. "We wanted to give you the opportunity to join our team. We could really use someone like you."

I stared at her, starting to feel a little dizzy. Stay here? Like, forever?

"Okay, this is just a little too much for me right now. Besides why do you guys even want me on your team? What even is this place, some sort of rehabilitation center?" I sighed.

Susan patted my shoulder. "You're more powerful than you realize, Molly. I just know we can figure out your abilities and help you learn to control them. You can train here, you can be apart of the team, you can thrive…but Monger isn't so sure you're ready. He's been pretty stubborn about this one, but I think we can persuade him to—"

"—look, I appreciate your offer. But, the problem is I don't think I'll ever be bale to control whatever this is that I've become. And, no offense, but I don't think you guys will be able to anything better than I have. I have a family, a brother who needs me. I don't belong here." I said simply.

"I know this is a lot to take in," she said, as we entered the mess hall. The others had gone ahead of us, and were now joined together playing cards at a long table. Bob had on a poker visor, and Link was staring thoughtfully at his hand of cards, a cigar hanging out of his mouth. Dr. Cockroach was twiddling with some kind of gadget. "But Molly, honestly, life out here? It's pretty awesome." She looked over at the gang and smiled warmly. I smiled too, loving the way she looked at them. She'd found her place, and she'd found her people.I felt a tear run down my cheek.

"Molly, are you okay?"

I wiped it quickly and nodded. "I'm fine," I said curtly. "I just need some time to think things over, I guess. None of this feels real yet."

I could tell she knew something was up, and her stubborn concern was getting under my skin.

"You know you can talk to me," she said.

I was about to respond, when her whole demeanor changed in a millisecond.

"Oh no," she said. She was looking behind me.

"What?" I asked.

"Trouble," Susan said. She took my hand and turned me around. I started when I saw a rather large woman strutting confidently through the doors, an electric spear crackling in her hand.

"Who the hell is that?" I said quietly.

"Sta'abi. She's a more recent alien recruit here at the base," Susan whispered.

"Stabi?" I asked.

"Sta'abi!" Within seconds she was right in my face.

"Oh god," I jumped backwards into Susan.

"What weakling of this pitiful planet dares to say Sta'abi's glorious name wrong?" She was yelling so loudly that the wind almost knocked me down flat.

"That would be me," I said meagerly.

"Pfft, weak earthlings. Too soft and squishy to pick a fight," she poked me in the chest.

"Hey!" I snapped.

"If you 'vill please excuse me," she pushed Susan and I aside. "The Vornicarn is awaiting his lunch." She walked away, her hips swaying as she left. I caught Link's eye watching her leave, the cigar nearly falling out of his open mouth.

"Jeez, what's her problem?"

Susan shrugged. "Personally? I think she's just lonely."

I made a face. "By the looks of it, she deserves to be lonely."

Susan giggled but composed herself quickly.

"Are you hungry, hon?" I rubbed my stomach as it began to growl.

"Yes, but, please don't call me 'hon'."

Susan smiled. "Sorry," she said shyly.

"…should we get in line?" I said looking at the lunch line across the hall.

"We better. You guys coming?" Susan called out.

"Uh, no thanks! Hard pass." Link held up his cards and the others grunted in agreement.

Susan nodded and motioned for me to follow her. "Come on!"

She guided me to a line where at least ten people were impatiently waiting for their food. Even more were stacked up against a vending machine. Susan grabbed a tray and handed me one.

"So," I began, and attempted to clear my throat. "If the government named you 'Ginormica' or whatever," I said, "why aren't you…ginormic?"

Susan chuckled. "It's funny you should ask. I was exposed to Hyperium!" She said.

I stared blankly at her. "Hyperi-what?"

"Hyperium! It's some kind of chemical alien gas that gives me the ability to change my size."

"Yeah well, that clears things up," I said sarcastically.

Once I got to the front of the line with Susan, I held out my tray without making a sound. The lunch lady was super unsettling, it looked like she'd been pulled straight out of an old rom com high school movie. She was very large, and her lip was curled in a constant state of disgust. Her red hair was coming out of the hairnet and her boobs were literally sagging to her belly button. Her name tag read, "Gertrude". No wonder she was so miserable. I gave her a smile, but she just frowned harder back. With her large silver ladle, she scooped into a pot of opaque white goop. She slapped it on my tray and I felt my appetite disappear. After grabbing some carrots and a carton of milk, I hurried from the line. When I looked back at Susan, she was also trying to smile politely at Gertrude, but this was mauled by a horrible grimace when the goop hit her tray.

"Okay…" she held her tray at arm's length, "this is officially your worst one yet, Gertrude."

I flattened my lips and tried to hold my breath. "Agreed."

We joined the rest of the team, still engrossed in their card game. I sat down, with Susan, staring at my tray with decreasing appetite. Stomach growling, I tried to eat, but the minute the goop touched my tongue I felt my gag reflexes activate. I dropped my fork and coughed into my elbow.

"Yes!" Dr. Cockroach suddenly slapped his card hand onto the table and shot triumphantly out of his seat. "A royal flush! Suck on that you squabbling toadwagons!" He snagged all of the loot from the center of the table, including a bag of chips, a calculator, a toothbrush, and three rubber bands.

"You son of a—" Link made a fist and squinted.

"Man, lost again," Bob said, frowning. "All I have are three stupid kings and some threes." He shook his head despondently, to the disbelief of Link and the doctor.

"Bob, that's a full house! You could've won the game! Don't let this quack beat us for the fifth time this month!" Link cried.

"Beat us at what, again?"

"Poker!" Link dropped his shoulders.

Bob laughed. "Poker? I thought we were playing go-fish!"

Dr. Cockroach laughed maniacally and taunted his friends with the calculator he held in his hand.

"You wish you could find Avogadro's number in terms of exponential growth in the third quadrant otherwise thought to be orthogonal!" He raised an eyebrow triumphantly at their blank faces. "And three whole rubber bands! John Hopkins, it's just what I needed for my Jenrapramorphic lazer gun!" He dangled them on his fingers and did a slight dance.

"I literally didn't understand any of what you just said," Link's crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

"Something about…puppies?" Bob asked.

"Well, anyway, look who decided to join us!" Link said, eyeing me.

"Molly! Susan! When did you guys get here?" He smiled. "Look! The fifth time this month I've whooped Links scaly buttocks at Poker!" He laughed and adjusted his lab coat. "Now then, where were we?" He put one elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand.

"Molly and I were just getting some, 'food'," Susan said, eyeing the mess on her tray.

"Hey! Your's has peas in it!" Bob announced.

"That is not food," Link said. "We used to have good stuff! Raw fish for breakfast, lunch, and dinner!" Link sighed happily.

"And the garbage was absolute perfection," Doc kissed his fingers, imitating an Italian chef. "Ever since President Hathaway's 'Get Healthy' movement, Monger hired an all new kitchen staff."

"This hardly seems 'healthy'," Susan said. "I don't think you could even categorize this as edible." She picked it up with her fork and watched the white goop fall off the spoon with ease. She stuck out her tongue and pushed the tray away from her. I put my head on my hand and poked the goop with my fork.

"Oh my god," I said in utter shock. "I think it's moving."

Link stared closely at my plate, his brow furrowing in disgust. "Okay, that's messed up."

My face went pale as a furry mass emerged from the goop, followed by a pair of small ears.

Dr. Cockroach gasped and squealed. "Chester!" He took my tray and picked up a two legged hamster that looked like a science experiment gone wrong. "I've been looking for you everywhere! You had me worried sick, old friend." He cuddled it up to his cheek and opened his eyes to see all of us staring at him. He cleared his throat and set him down on the table.

Susan smiled hesitantly and looked over at me, folding her arms on the table.

"So?" Link said, glancing at me expectantly.

"So, what?" I asked.

"So, tell us about yourself. All we know is that you're a savage, bloodthirsty werewolf. Kinda getting mixed signals from you right now."

I frowned.

"Well, um…I was born in a small-ish town in Colorado and….I'm lactose intolerant?" I shrugged. "Um, I…" I was drawing a blank. "That's pretty much all I've got, I guess. But what about you guys, huh?"

They looked at each other and shrugged.

"Let's see, we've got…the creature from the black lagoon…" I nodded to Link as he straightened up.

"I'm so misrepresented in that movie," he interjected. "I'm much more handsome in real life," he straddled the chair and smoothed back his top fin with a careless grin.

"…a fifty-foot high woman who got hit by a meteorite," I nodded and looked to Susan for accuracy. "And…some kind of…blue…"

"Benzoate Ostylezene Bicarbonate. Or you can call me Bob," he put his elbow on the table.

I flattened my lips and nodded.

"Don't worry, people get it wrong all the time."

"Uh huh," I said curtly. "And then…you." I looked at Dr. Cockroach with a confused look.

He chuckled nervously.

"A cockroach and human genetic mutation. I had high hopes as a young lad, pursing the science and art of mutation, and hoping to improve humanity's ability to survive like the common household cockroach," he smoothed back his antennas. "However…as you can see…I failed," he said, frowning.

"Miserably," Link said.

Doc shot him a harsh look.

"And me?" Link smirked at her. "Well, I don't like to get too cocky. But…"

Susan rolled her eyes. "Here we go."

"I survived being frozen in a giant block of ice for twenty thousand years. Give or take a few," he examined his nails nonchalantly. "Some idiot scientist thawed me. I was cranky, you know, it happens. I started terrorizing teens, beach babes, and coast guards until I was brought back here. You're lookin' at the strongest set of muscles on the west coast," he nodded smugly.

"Wow, how intriguing," I said dully. "So…what even are you guys? Some kind of elite force or something?"

"Haven't you seen us on the news? Kicking alien butt since 2008?" He asked incredulously.

"I don't have cable," I smiled at his annoyed expression.

"We're a family here! Give or take Coverton, but we fight to protect the world," Susan said happily.

"Like that one time with the giant snails! We were eating escargot for weeks! Or the mutant candy-eating pumpkins? Those made some good pie…and oh! What about that million year old alien hag who came to the base and tried to feast on our brains like a zombie?" Bob asked almost biting down on links arm.

Link pushed him away with an annoyed look.

"Bob, that wasn't an alien," the doc said with an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, that was Monger's great aunt Marge," Link and Doc shivered. "I'll never get the luster back in my cheeks after her wrinkly hands kept pinching me."

"What are you talking about? You don't even have cheeks!" Bob said, confused.

"Well what about you, then kid? What's your story? How'd you become," he put his hands in the air as if to spell out a broadway sign, "'La Violenica de Las Vegas'?" He chuckled.

"The what?" I asked.

"Come on, it's clever!" He said. "You were on the front page of la tribuna de Las Vegas por una semana!"

"You…you speak Spanish?" I eyed him curiously.

"Kid, you spend fifty years locked up in a government facility like me and you learn to keep yourself occupied with a thing or two."

I sighed. "I became 'la violencia' because…" I stopped short, unable to get the right words out. "It's complicated." I stared down at my untouched tray. The rodent had taken all my white goop with it, and the carrots looked more like fried fingers than food. I was also pretty sure the milk carton had expired three days ago. I poked at the finger-carrots.

"Come on, come on!" Link pressed. "Did your boyfriend infect you or something?" He chuckled.

I glared at him from across the table.

"Link!" Susan scolded.

"Hey, it's just a question," he said with a sing song tone in his voice.

"I just can't talk about it."

"Perhaps it's not in Molly's best interest for us to press her over past affairs such as this," Dr. Cockroach interjected, smiling apologetically at me.

"Right, because it's 'complicated'," he air quoted.

"It is!" I said defiantly.

"Uh huh, sure," he said, half smiling.

"I was kidnapped you asshole," I snapped, crossing my arms and looking away from their shocked expressions.

"Molly, I…we had no idea," Susan shot an angry look at Link and he surrendered his hands.

"About four-ish months ago, my aunt and I had gone on an ext-essential camping trip somewhere in the deep woods of Colorado. I think it was the Rocky Mountains, but can't _really_ remember much from that trip." I rubbed my forefingers between my eyebrows and squinted my eyes, trying to remember. "Anyways, I went to go find firewood and... Something found me before I found the wood for the fire. Everything went black. The last thing I remember were a pair of large yellow eyes in the bushes, and finding this when I woke up," I pulled down my shirt collar to reveal my bite.

"Woah, gross!" Bob's eye widened as he reached himself over the table to get a better look. I bit my lip and covered it back over in a matter of seconds.

"I know," I said insecurely. "And from that day forward, I was the outcast beast girl from down the lane."

"Don't forget the blood thirsty monster part," Bob said loudly.

"I am not a monster!" I yelled as I slammed the table.

Everyone grew quiet for a second.

"Okay well, somebody better tell Monger! He thinks your a werewolf!" Bob whispered to Dr. Cockroach.

Doc put a hand to his forehead and sighed.

"But, uh, hey! I'm lactose intolerant too!" Bob leaned over and tried to give me a high five.

"Bob, you don't have a digestive system," Link said.

"Oh yeah? Well…try and explain Gerard's hard time last week after Taco Tuesday."

Link began to say something, but remained silent.

"Absolutely astonishing, my friend. You and Squeep managed to clog the entire sewage system for a week after that fateful day. Still haven't' figured out how you did it," Dr. Cockroach said, clearly trying to change the subject. "Where is the little devil anyways?" He turned and looked around the still crowded mess hall.

"Beats me. But, when she's not around, that means no more stupid educational television. Plus, a fish man can only take so many games of checkers," he rolled his eyes in a good natured way.

Bob patted him sympathetically on the back.

"Well, I think she's a sweetie. I can't wait for you to meet her," Susan said.

"And Coverton! Don't forget my emergency buddy Coverton!" Bob said happily.

Link's face lit up. "That's right. You're going to love Coverton, kid," he said with a mischievous smile.

"Stop it, Link. She needs at least another month to adjust here before she meets Coverton." Susan rolled her eyes.

I sat up. "When did I say I was going to stay? I'm not staying."

Susan frowned. "Sorry, wishful thinking I suppose." She lowered her head down.

"It is exactly 3:30 PM!" A disembodied voice practically echoed throughout the mess hall.

I started and slipped from my chair. "What the hell was that?" I grunted.

Doc smiled sheepishly and held up his watch.

"When things get a little heated in the lab, I need something to give me the time when I don't have time to read a clock!"

"I've been trying to get him to turn it off for weeks now. It's the most annoying thing in the world," Susan giggled.

Doc blushed. "I invented it myself. A child of science, the new modern age!" He said with a triumphant voice.

Susan smiled and pushed her hair back behind her ears.

"Say, Susan, when is Molly's orientation with Monger? I thought he scheduled it for 3:30?" Doc looked at his oversized and overcomplicated watch.

Susan was about to say something but I stood up and cut her off.

"Look, I don't need any stupid orientation, because, like I keep trying to tell you guys, I'm not staying!"

"Oh I wouldn't be so sure about that," a gruff voice sounded behind me. The whole team stay up straighter and more alert. "Young lady, it's time for your orientation."


	2. Chapter 2: Orientation from Hell

This small man was beginning to irritate me more than I was okay with. We were in a camp jeep, driving along the long hallways and among all the people in bio hazard suits.

"Look, Susan already gave me a tour… And-and I appreciate all this but at the same time I really _don't_. So if you'll excuse me…" I tried to unbuckle and open my door but we came to a screeching halt that almost sent me through the wind shield. I rubbed my neck and scowled at the old fart sitting next to me

"Hey, what the hell, man? You could've killed me!" I yelled.

"So we understand each other," He said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. His voice was gruff and sounded as though he had just gargled three cups of asphalt gravel. I frowned. "Young lady, I don't want trouble but I know how young and ignorant kids can be let alone one dealing with this situation." I fumed.

"Listen, General Grumpy-pants, I'm not a _kid_. I'm seventeen years old!" He smirked again.

"Names General Monger, and for your information the United States law clearly says that you become of age when you turn eighteen. You and I both know you still have a lot to learn." He raised an eyebrow and began running the engine. I tried to rebuttal but I sat back and felt my blood boil with embarrassment. He had no right to call me ignorant. He hadn't witnessed my life since I was bitten. He stuck his nose in the air at my silence.

"Now that's more like it." He said adjusting his position in the driver's seat. "Let's try this again." He said curtly. I gave his a sideways glare and took a deep breath, still refusing to let my arms relax. "This here," He extended his left arm outside the window. "Is Area-Fifty Something." I squinted glancing at the various janitors and scientists that lurked the halls, watching my every move like hungry lions stalking their rodent prey. "Established in the late sixties as a government cover up to convince the public that monsters weren't real."

"Tale as old as time." I said sarcastically.

"But as I'm sure you heard, thanks to our elite team of soldiers—er I mean, _monsters,"_ He corrected himself. "They were able to defeat the public's newest enemy, Galaxar in 2009. Damn near wiped out the entire city of San Fransisco, not to mention put all of planet earth in danger. But thanks to _my_ instruction and leadership, that little bastard got himself blown up!" He laughed and slapped his knee causing the jeep to sway a little. I grabbed a hold of the side and held inciting him a nasty glance. "The President of these fifty states granted them their freedom and a new position as agents for the federal government: Defenders of the U.S.A." He said with wonder in his eyes. Oh boy. Just what I needed, another military happy bozo.

"I've heard this story about a kajillion times, Monger. " I said in a monotone.

"But what part you haven't heard, is _your's,_ little lady." I squinted.

"What exactly is _my_ part in all this then, _sir?_ I gritted through my teeth.

"Well, this," He gestured. "Is your new home." He said.

"Let's get something straight, Monger. This place is _not_ my home. Not now, not ever." I spat. He let out a condescending chuckle.

"Well, can't say you took it better than our last recruitment…" He said shaking his head. "Come on Ms. Richardson. Let's not make things difficult. This here facility is better than anything they'll try to coop you up in on the outside. Museums, carnivals, zoo's. This world don't take too kindly to monsters. And that's the truth."

"Being forced to join a team of radioactive freaks thrown into a ring to fight off aliens? Sounds like a zoo to me." He made an abrupt stop, slamming his foot on the break.

"Now who said anything about you _joining_ this elite team-force?" He squinted.

"We strive to keep the streets out of danger, and _you,_ little lady, are a force to be reckoned with." I sat up a little straighter feeling the burn lift from my chest. "And I don't mean that in a good way. Of course, you'll be staying here until we can get that little 'power' of yours under control."

"'Power'? Are you kidding me? I was bitten by a maniac who may I remind you is _still_ roaming the streets?"

"What's important is that we keep you and the public out of danger."

"What about my parents?" I asked. "What about my life?"

"Good God, kid as far as your concerned, life as you know it is over. Everything here is on a need to know basis. So consider this your new living quarters, soldier!" I closed my eyes and tried to repress every insult my brain conjured up.

"Who the hell has a say in taking me away from my own family?" I furrowed my brows.

"Oh, you've got the President of these very states to thank for that! After you're little — outburst, he ordered to have you kept out of the public eye, make sure you don't kill nobody else. Besides, your famous. Your face is sweeping the nation and the outcry to have to locked up was hostile to say the least. Hell, you had the army screamin' like little school girls!" He laughed and patted the wheel a few times. "Like America had screaming diarrhea. And all while U.T.M.I?" He whispered and leaned in with a hand beside his mouth. "That's code for—"

"I know what it's code for!" I snapped. He frowned. "Under the monster influence. Susan told me."

"Hmph." He said frowning. "Back in my days, codes were something to be respected. Held in confidence!" I raised an eyebrow. "Any who, let's get this show on the road!" He said almost running into three terrified workers.

"Goody." I said flunked in my seat.

We headed through a few tunnels here and there and he almost threw me out the side door with his clear lack of driving experience. I decided to buckle my seatbelt after that. The facility was pretty incredible, I had to admit. From the weapons being tested through glass doors to all the crazy stuff you'd think would be hidden up in a top secret government confident.

"Here we have our mothership— _the very_ ship we use for transportation on every mission." I smiled and pressed my face against the window. "Which of course you'll not be gettin' on any time soon. Let's move on!" He said cheerfully pressing on the gas pedal.

I grumbled to myself and sat back down in my seat.

"This is bullshit." I mumbled.

"What was that soldier?" He asked gruffly.

"Oh I was professing what an honor it is to be in the presence of such hero work such as your team of monsters." I smiled sarcastically.

"That's what I _thought_ you said." He smiled, squinting his eyes. God I hated this with the fire of a thousand suns.

After he'd driven through almost fifteen pedestrians, almost thrown me out of the car multiple times, and after we'd surfaced almost every "important and relative to your current situation" part of the base, we drove to a large set of metallic sliding doors almost as tall as the jeep itself. I looked at Monger.

"I thought we were heading back to the common area…?" I said.

"Not yet, little lady. We've got one more stop." He said getting out of the jeep. I opened up my door and stretched my arms. I was beginning to realize how comfortable this synthetic jacket they'd given me really was.

"Where are we?" I asked nonchalantly. He didn't answer but ushered past a few people holding bags and clipboards. A rather boney woman in a lab coat with a tight bun showcasing every wrinkle and imperfection on her face turned around quickly and raised an eyebrow. She was clinging to a clipboard and her red fingertips tapped it rhythmically.

"Ms. Collins." He bowed his head a tad and she nodded.

"General Monger." She said without changing the cold, dead expression on her face. "Is this…" She looked me up and down in slight disgust. "The specimen?" She curved her lip to her nose slightly as if a foul odor had just made itself known.

"This is Ms. Richardson, the one we picked up last week." He said.

"Charming." She said. Even from behind the protection of her large red glasses I still felt like her cold stare could turn me to stone faster than Medusa could snap her fingers. She turned around swiftly and abruptly, typing in an unreasonably long code into the keypad and scanning fingerprint. Once the doors opened, she turned to the general and I. "This way." She jerked her head down the hallway and Monger ushered me to follow close behind.

"Charlotte Collins is the best in business, recruited her from the best government forensics lab in Utah. Worst Bratwursts in America." He shivered and regained his posture, holding his hands behind his back as he led me in first.

"Is this part of the tour or…?" I asked confused and a little hungry.

"I better let Ms. Collins do the talkin'." He nodded towards the back of her head. She was standing up so straight that a metal pole might as well have been strapped between her shoulders. She walked with haste and without any movement in her small hips or shoulders. Almost identical to a heartless robot.

"Ms. Richardson," She said without turning her head. "Ever since Area Fifty Something got a glimpse of your — rather, _raw_ exterior, my people became increasingly intrigued by that blemish of yours." She said curtly.

"You mean my _bite_?" I said grinding my teeth. The very _"blemish"_ that had dictated every waking moment of my life since I was twelve? That blemish?

"Whatever you chose to call it is just fine, Ms Richardson." She said condescendingly. "See, I've been studying human DNA and various other creatures here at the base. And more recently…Aliens." She lowered her chin slightly. "At our last meeting with the President, just a routine check up over basic diagnostics and various economic strategies concerning the base and its inhabitants, Monger so graciously informed us that a 'werewolf' would be joining us at the base. Needless to say that my interest was peeked." She said. "This way." She led us through a few more turns and then into a large open lab space with various other smart-looking people sporting glasses and lab coats, holding neon colored vials and conversing with each other in hushed conversations. When we entered the room, the smell of metal, plastic and acid was prevalent and it almost burned off every nose hair I had. I made a face and couched a tad attempting to whisk it away with a flap of my hand.

"Don't bother trying to rid yourself of the smell. Your senses are heightened and therefore ten times as strong as the average human." She said. I paused. "My senses?" I asked. She turned around and sighed with a look of sheer annoyance.

"Your _senses_. Audio, touch, taste, smell, sight?" She said regaining her posture.

I looked over my shoulder and saw Monger conversing with some of the other scientists, leaving me alone to with this she-devil. I shifted uncomfortably.

" _Anyways,_ ever since the government began keeping tabs on you, I knew we had a much bigger case on our hands. That bite, Ms. Richardson," She pointed to my shoulder where my shirt still sagged from earlier. "Is not any average bite."

"What are you talking about?" She pursed her lips.

"I've only seen bites like these in very specific cases. And I've been studying human DNA for seventeen years. It's no common curse we have on our hands, Ms. Richardson." I shook my head in disbelief. For years what I thought was a terrible fate thrown at me like a curve ball, wasn't a fate after all. "If my hunch is correct, with the correct research — well, with the research we've been able to conduct — there's a possibility that it can indeed can be cured." The words seemed to leave her mouth in slow-motion and my whole world began to spin.

"C-cured?" I asked breathlessly. "I can go h-home?" I stuttered almost unable to believe the words she was speaking.

"There's a chance. A very — slim chance, Ms. Richardson. Extensive research and tests will have to be conducted before anything is for certain." I was so overcome with emotion that I sprung off the ground and wrapped my hands almost three times around her tiny waist, tears of joy springing from my eyes. Immediately however, she struggled to free herself and pushed me away, fixing her slicked back bun and misplaced glasses. "Get off me, you sickly child!" She pounced backwards and scowled. "This is a place of science, not _horseplay_!" She snapped. She cleared her throat and smoothed her coat of any wrinkles. She then led me to a tube with a DNA sample emerged in a blue bubbling liquid.

"Here." She shoved the clipboard towards me and held a pen in her other hand. "I need your formal permission to further conduct tests and gather research. Of course if you want to _stay_ like this, however," She raised an eyebrow.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" I grabbed the clipboard and signed my name with haste and slammed the pen down when I was finished. My hands were shaking I could hardly contain myself. "Yes! Hell yes I consent, I consent!" I squealed. The lab went quiet and everyone looked at me with a collective judgmental stare. I cleared my throat and clasped my hands together at my waist. "I mean, yes, please." Collins stared at me and let out a sharp breath.

"Very good. We will begin research immediately." She said putting a hand on my back and leading me to an examination chair. I sat down hesitantly and laid my head back on a soft, cushy pillow and took a deep breath. Monger stifled over to me and straightened his back with his hands tied.

"Well, Ms. Richardson, what do you think?" I smiled and laughed breathlessly.

"What do I _think_?" I wiggled my toes and squealed. "I think I'm getting out of here!"

"We can _only_ hope." Collins said smirking. I rolled my eyes and looked around.

"What's first?" I asked excitedly. Collins looked at her colleagues hesitantly and looked back at me.

"What?" I asked growing more anxious by the second at their sudden hesitation.

"We need you to transform in order for the proper first steps and samples to be taken." She said dryly.

"I—I don't know." I said. Collins ceased in her steps.. "I'm—unpredictable, and I'm, not — myself." I said furrowing my brows. "What if I hurt someone?" I said grudgingly. "I don't think I could live with that." I said. There was a mummer of agreement among the scientists.

"We all knew what we were getting into when we accepted these positions, Ms. Richardson. We have the best of the best on our side. And in order for this test to be successful, we need you completely turned. Precautions have been set in place to ensure our safety as well as yours. Now, if you'll please." She said almost in a whisper. She looked at two large burly nurses and nodded. They immediately strapped my chest and arms with steel bars to the bed as well as my legs and ankles.

"Are you comfortable, Ms. Richardson?" She asked.

"Barely." I said fidgeting.

"If you keep moving it will get tighter." She turned to the general. "General, perhaps it'd be best if you weren't present for this next sequence?" She said politely. He lifted his chin.

"No, ma'am. This is my facility and I have access to all it's patrons and all experimentations." She nodded and I felt a sigh of relief come over me like a tidal wave.

"Very well. But please stand by. Without the proper training, things can get messy." She explained. A few men tapped him on the shoulder and held out a helmet. He reused and laughed.

"No need. I once commanded an army of ten into a death pit with nothing on but the clothes on my back. Escaped without a scar." He said proudly. Collins widened her eyes and turned towards me.

"If you insist, General." She said cautiously. She turned to me with the same cold expression as before but somehow softer this time. A chubby nurse tied a rubber band around my arm and poked my vein slightly.

"She's clear for injection, Dr. Collins!" Her squeaky voice declared. Collins came in behind her and stabbed the syringe into my arm with great force. I let out a shriek of pain and shoved my head backwards digging my fingers into the sheets under me.

"Gimme that helmet!" Monger snatched it from the hands of the confused nurses.

"Now, you might feel a slight sense of pressure and nausea, but that's normal." She turned to everyone else. "Brace for impact, everyone Transformation in three," I felt a bubbling occur in my stomach and a pressure rise in my head. "…Two…" The world was becoming blurry and suddenly I was spinning out of control, letting our wolfish growls as I felt my fingernails sprout from my cuticles. I heard every beep, every pump and every breath taken, including the pounding of my heart against my ribcage. I let out one last scream before the world began to slow. "One."


	3. Chapter 3: New Digs

As I regained the feeling in my fingers and toes, I slowly opened my groggy eyelids and rolled my head around a few times. I heard the slowly beat of a heart monitor, as well as the stifled tears of a few people. I let out a breath that I felt like I'd been holding for days and couched up some black fluid onto the sheets I was wrapped in.

"Someone get her a towel, she's sweating like a pig." A kind, familiar voice slowly became apparent as well as the person it was attached to. Susan's blurry figure came into view as I squinted and tried to make sense of my surroundings.

"That shit is nasty!" I heard Link's gruff voice scowl.

"Do us all the pleasure Link, and shut up!" I heard Dr. Cockroach spat with the sound of him hitting Link on the arm.

"Ow! Geez Doc!" He said frowning.

"She's waking up," Susan said calmly. I sat up slowly and Susan pulled my messy hair back out of my face. A nurse handed her a large bed pan and Susan positioned it at just the right time. I felt the chunks begin to rise in my throat and I slumped over the pan hurling into it once or twice.

"Rise and shine! We brought you sprinkles!" Bob sang. Upon raising my head, with the drool hanging from my mouth and my hair in disarray, it made Link and Doc wince in disgust.

"Why…?" I asked still trying to make sense of my surroundings. Bob laughed and handed me a large bowl of rainbow assorted sprinkles. I took it weakly.

"Because sprinkles make everything better, duh!" He said with his hands on his hips.

"What—what happened?" I handed Susan the bowl. They all looked at each other and remained silent. "Am I cured?" I asked my head still pounding.

"Not quite." A calm voice emerged from the four monsters that crowded around me. He was a tall, handsome figure with a kind smile and jet black hair slicked back in a rather pompous fashion. Something about him seemed all too familiar but being in my state, I couldn't differentiate an orange from an apple. He put a gentle hand to my forehead and smiled.

"Still running a fever I see,"

"Doctor Wilson," Susan flushed and giggled a few times before clearing her throat and patting my hand slowly.

"Susan, always lovely to see you." He smiled at Susan and she almost lost all her composure. Link gave her a look and shook his head. He stood up and extended his hand for a bro-hug.

"Doc Will!" He said with a fake tone of subtle sarcasm.

"Link," He said bringing him in. "Oh, losing a little muscle tone are we?" Link blew a raspberry and waved his hand. "Bet I could still beat you at arm wrestling, eh?" Link chuckled and dropped it like a temperature change

"In your dreams." He sat back down and grunted as he extended his arms behind his head.

"Wilson." Dr. Cockroach stood hesitantly and nodded his head but kept his hand behind his back and in a tight knot with his other fingers. "Always nice to see a fellow," He cleared his throat. "Doctor." He said under his breath. Wilson smiled and nodded.

"Always a pleasure, Dr. Cockroach." Doc sat down and squinted, wiggling his antennas out of annoyance and crossed his arms with a small huff, eyeing Susan's lovestruck gaze.

"Nice to see you again as well Bob. How's that hemorrhoid problem?"

"You know Doc, it's actually gone? But there is this really weird thing under my folds that I just cant seem to pop—"

"Excsue me, but can you _please_ tell me what's going on?" I interrupted not wanting to hear of Bob's untold treasures beneath his folds. Wilson knelt down and looked at me with penetratingly blue eyes. Hard to forget ones like that.

"Molly, I'm Doctor Wilson, Doctor Collin's assistant." He said warmly. "How are you feeling?"

"My head is killing me." I said laying back down with hesitation.

"Molly, you did a very brave thing back there. And rest assured nothing you did was _your_ fault." I sat up quickly.

"My _fault_? What happened?" I sat up abruptly and a pounding in my head immediately followed as him and Susan guided me back into a relaxed position.

"Nothing that can't be fixed." His smile was warm and reassuring, and his dimples made me forget my throbbing temples momentarily.

"You didn't answer my question," I insisted. Wilson chucked and smiled again. "Where's Collins? Am I cured? How did the test go? What _happened_?" The heart monitor began to beep rapidly and Wilson put his hand on mine.

"Molly, Molly. Relax. Collins is reviewing your test results, gathering data. She sent me to be sure you're alright." He said.

"And the test?" I said. Wilson took a deep breath.

"Fortunately when you went under, we were able to gather a few blood samples as well as a few saliva samples. We measured all kinds of this and that, etcetera, etcetera." He waved his hand. "However there were a few consequences as I warned Charlotte there would be with forcing you to turn." I felt a turn in my stomach and threw up violently in the pan again. It felt like the ultimate hangover from hell.

"Like that." He said. Susan untied her ponytail and tied up my hair into a messy bun. I smiled weakly at her and lay back down. "I've never had this bad of a 'morning after' before Doc." I said twisting my face.

"Well, induced transformation can result in some pretty nasty after effects, as we figured out today." I laughed weakly. "Unfortunately, there were a few injuries after your escape. The bars proved," He thought for a moment. "Inferior to your strength. No one died, thank god, but there were, however, a large set of injuries." I bumped my head against the bed angrily and cursed under my breath. "Like I said, they're being taken care of in the infirmary as we speak. I'm sure Bob can tell you that we are equipped with some of the finest medicine that America has to offer.

"That's right! They have the cute little plastic cups in the bathrooms for, refreshments," He said elbowing Link. "And after every check up you get a big lollipop, for being a big kid!" He smiled and looked quite content with himself.

"Hey! I never get lollipops! Just those dumb old stickers with kittens on them." Link crossed his arms and sulked.

"Well duh! They only give the suckers to the special ones." Bob squinted matter of factly towards link and shook his head with a pointed thumb in Link's direction.

"Thank you, Bob." He chuckled.

"They'll be fine, Molly. Just as you will be." He said looking reassuringly towards me and the crew.

"When will we know something?" I said holding my stomach.

"To be perfectly honest with you, it's pretty up in the air. But Charlotte is a very efficient worker. And she means business."

"Oh yeah she does. Now _that's_ a woman." Link nodded like he'd said it to himself in an empty room.

"Link?" Susan squinted and made a grossed out face. He surrendered his hands in the air and chuckled out of embarrassment. Wilson cleared his throat and put a fist to his mouth before he began talking again, clearly uncomfortable with Link's flirtatious comment.

"Any who," He said nervously. "She'll get it done, even if the world collapses."

"Oh I'm sure she will." I said rubbing my head.

"What was that?" He asked.

"Nothing she's just really…"

"Sexy?" Link injected, hands on his knees.

"Link!" Susan snapped.

"Abrupt. Kind of a bitch." I said weakly. Dr. Wilson let out a chuckle and quickly covered his mouth. He nodded slowly and sucked through his teeth.

"She can be a bit — _abrasive_ , but she's the finest forensics doctor I've yet to meet in all my years working here at the base." He got up and scribbled some things on his touch pad. "Trust me, she'll grow on you." I looked at Susan and she shrugged slightly giving me a halfway smile and a glint in her eye. Something about Susan was just, calming.

"What am I supposed to do 'till then?" I asked, making sure I still had all the feeling in my limbs.

"For the time being, Molly you'll need rest to recover properly. Try not to do anything that will stimulate high levels of emotion or endorphins." He ran his finger over his touch pad again. "Your stress levels were especially high this morning and it's one of the reasons your reaction was so drastic."

"I wonder why." I said dryly.

"Tell me, Molly, your predicament, does it usually fluctuate when emotional levels are elevated?" He pressed.

"Increasingly." I folded my hands.

"As I— _we_ feared." He corrected.

"Well for the time being, try and get some rest. I'll find one of the nurses to escort you back to your living quarters, yes?" I nodded.

"Anything but this exam table of doom." I said.

He pulled up a walkie-talkie up to his mouth and pressed down.

"Patient Richardson is ready for relocation." He said cooly. "Very good." He hung up the device and put it into his deep pockets. "Well, I best be going, I hear Squeep is in dire need of my assistance. Says she's been exposed to some foreign earth germ." He scrunched his face into a slight wad. "Now If you'll excuse me." He walked through the exit doors and dashed down the hallway.

" _Squeep_? Foreign _earth_ _germ_?" I said making a face.

"Resident alien here at base — working on her school field trip to study planet earth!" Susan said excitedly.

"It's about as much fun as it sounds, kid. And it ain't fun." Link tilted his head back and sighed. "Last week? She made us sit through a lecture of how moss grows. It was worse than Monger's old attempts to educate us about street law back in June." He, Bob and Doc shivered at the mere thought.

"Oh come on, Link. You have to admit, you two have gotten pretty, 'buddy-buddy'."

"I played one game of checkers with the little pip squeak. So what?"

"Because, Link! Checkers is game the official of friendships. Everybody knows that." Bob crossed his arms happily.

"Remind me why I take friendship advice from you. You're the one who made friends with an apple core." Link grunted.

"Oh, Tina? Ha! She and my mother went to college together." He said. Link face palmed and rubbed his large meaty fingers between his eyes. I then took a moment and looked around at all the somber faces — aside from Bob's stupid smile — and felt Susan squeeze my hand. She gave me a kind smile.

"It's gonna be alright." She whispered.

"Why did you guys come again?" I asked scrunching my nose at the headache and nausea. Susan looked around at everyone and smiled. She looked back at me a shrugged.

"We wanted to be sure you were okay." She said.

"You gave us quite a scare, my dear." Doc said softening his large eyes.

"Also could've been the fact that you sent off the 'don't set off this alarm ever, only in case of extreme emergency' alarm that Monger only uses for _emergencies_." Link said winking in my direction.

"But," Susan said putting up a hand. "Mostly because we were worried." The gang all nodded.

"Did you guys see what happened?" I asked playing with my fingers. They were silent.

"Monger told us to take cover at first," Susan began.

"But we didn't want to miss any piece of action!" Link said excitedly.

"Oh please, you just wanted to see Collins in a state of panic." Susan said.

"The woman never smiles!" Link gestured all wide eyed.

"Anyways," Susan said.

"You threw like three people into that glass door!" Bob pointed to a scene of disarray, with three people cleaning up various pieces of glass that were scattered across the floor.

"So what's the verdict? Permanent state of man-beast?" Link smirked.

"Hey!" I said defiantly. "That's _woman_ beast to you, sir." I said pointing a finger at him. "I mean, if Collins can figure out whats going on with me, she might be able to find a cure. That's about all I know at this point." Susan patted my hand.

"Well what we _do_ know, is that you need some rest. So we'll get out of your hair for now." She smiled and motioned for everyone else to stand. Bob left the bowl of sprinkles back on my bedside table and everyone else trudged out the door, with an occasional wave. I sighed and looked around. There were maintenance workers with mops and water buckets cleaning the blood off the windows and the floor, placing a few precaution signs around the spills. Aside from the door I'd apparently broken, there was glass everywhere and untold liquids streaked across the tile. I'd never seen such a mess before, and worse, it was all because of me. I got a few nasty glances from some of the employees before they jerked their heads back to their dull conversations.

They had every reason to believe I was a monster, and I didn't blame them in the least.


	4. Chapter 4: Therapy Session

"Hi there, Mrs. Richardson. Dr. James Hughes."

The tall, lanky, ginger that sat across from me stood and extended his hand.

I rose to meet him.

"A pleasure." He smiled and every freckle that dotted his face moved with his dimples. I had to admit, it was hard not to smile back at him. He had a goofy face and his bright striped necktie contrasted to his sickly, gray suit. He sat back in his chair with a loud exhale and crossed his legs curtly. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the corners of his clipboard, almost giddy to pick apart my brain one coping skill at a time.

He continued to grin, which made my stomach burn and I did my best to avoid his intruding stare. I tried to look at anything except him and his narrow, emerald eyes. He tapped his foot to a silent melody as I gazed around his office. It sure didn't look like any other room at the base, or any that I'd seen. None were this zesty, or colorful. The rainbow painted bookshelf was easily the most boring object in the room.

His desk sat next to him, covered with stacks of paper and scattered pens leaking bright colored ink. The walls were yellow and covered with motivational posters that said things like, "Strength", "Confidence" and "Success". A toy chest lined with hand painted giraffes sat wide open in the corner, slinks, action figures, blocks, and puzzles spilling out of the side. Who was this cook? Some slime-ball they plucked from a communal mental ward funded by a chain restaurant?

"So what brings you in here today, Miss Richardson?"

I jerked slightly, forgetting there was another human in the room. I pulled the sleeve of my sweatshirt up to my wrists and fiddled with the seam with my finer tips. I was still having a hard time meeting his gaze.

"Or, may I say…" he flipped through a few pages and smiled. "'Abigail'?" He snickered slightly, but his wide grin disappeared as he glanced back at me.

I felt my cheeks burn red, hot with embarrassment. "Er… Molly is fine." I said curtly, bringing my legs to a crossed position in the large green chair.

He regained his composure and nodded in understanding.

"You can call me Dr. Jim. Or Dr. Jimbo. Always wanted a nick name, I did." His British accent became more prevalent the more his mouth moved. "Not the bloody pet names I get from this lot." He said shaking his head.

I stifled a chuckle thinking about Link, Doc and Bob giving him a hard time. Oh the possibilities…

"Now anyways, as I was saying," he cleared his throat and I resurfaced from my musings. "What brings you into my office this morning, Molly?" He asked squinting in a concerned, shrink kind of way, his lips slightly pursed.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked, exhausted.

"I don't believe I follow you…" he said, shaking his head.

"Is this how you start every session around here?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Well," he started, caught off guard. "Bob and I usually start off with a game of 'guess that animal', or some cognitive ability recognition with those blocks. Bob never can tell the red ones from… any of them actually… a few sandwiches short of the picnic, that one," he said looking off into space. "…and Link always starts off by insulting my tie of the week. Very shirty, don't you think?" He fiddled with his tie slowly. "You don't think it's too 'flashy' do you?" He asked, clearly concerned.

"Dr. Jim…" I said rubbing my forehead.

"Oh, look at me, going on about my fashion sense. Poppycock, it is!"

Mysteriously, my headache was getting worse. I took a deep breath and looked at him, waiting for him to stop laughing. In an effort to make myself more comfortable, I shifted in my seat but much to my dismay, I rolled onto a toy soldier. Grimacing, I removed it out from underneath my ass and held it up.

"Oh dear," he said holding out his hand to take the figure out of my grasp. "I do apologize, this place has gone to shambles," he muttered under his breath.

"Can I go now?" I asked.

"Well, not exactly. It's almost half past and we still have another forty-five minutes! General Monger insists that I see every participant of the base at least once a month, if not more. Now we can't lallygag anymore," he said, attempting to rain in his goofiness. He pulled his fingers into a dramatic fist and shook out his limbs slightly. "Back to business." He began to say something, but stopped short, looking uncertain.

"What?" I asked annoyed.

"Why are you here?" He asked, pointing his pen at my chest.

I gave it some thought. "Because I'm a bloodthirsty monster? I thought that was obvious," I guessed.

"You know, I never did hear that story, care to enlighten me?" He tapped his pencil on his clipboard.

"I don't know, Doc," I said quietly.

"Come now, Molly I promise I won't bite. Not unless you're that jelly tart grandmother sent over in her care package last week," he motioned for me to continue. "Please, go on."

I sighed. "Fine."

"About two months ago, I ended up in Vegas. And like everything there, things got a little out of hand." I pushed my hair back and behind my ear. "I don't really remember much of what happened to be honest with you," I chuckled nervously. "Woke up here. In this…" I looked around with my hands in midair, at a loss for words. "…prison." For the first time, Dr. Jim was silent.

He nodded slowly and readjusted himself. "I see. Now tell me the the real story."

"That is the real story!" I said defiantly.

"I don't think so," he glanced up. "Start from the beginning. Your story. Why are you here?" He asked pointedly.

I blew a raspberry and frowned. "I can't remember, Doc."

"Try."

I paused for a moment and thought about it. Where had it all begun? What happened that fateful afternoon?

"…I—I was visiting my aunt for the summer." The image of uncaring, worry-free, and senseless Molly Richardson came flooding into my head, as if the giant golden gates of emotional repression had been pushed open, forcing me to remember the day when it all began.

The sky was a sickly grayish color and the drive up the mountain was a slow and ominous one. I pressed my boney hands up against the passenger seat window and watched as the clear horse ranches slowly manifested into large fir trees that reached as high as the cloudy, sky. My aunt pulled into a dirt parking lot and hit the brakes. The impact sent my small stature forward but the seatbelt caught me mid-thrust. I unbuckled myself, swung open the door, —which was twice as large as me— and let my booted foot hit the rocky ground. The air that surround us was thick, and just cold enough to send a light layer of goosebumps across my exposed legs. I quickly realized that it wasn't the brightest idea to wear cargo shorts half passed four. I rubbed my hands together vigorously and shoved them in my jacket pocket. The faint cry of an eagle echoed above and I looked up at the giant gathering of forestry before me.

My aunt put her hands on her hips and sighed.

"This old gal is the baddest bitch in Colorado."

I felt a lump begin to form at the back of my throat as I stared at the gathering of trees. "Trek this, and your junior high drama will be like 'this' big." She joined her thumb and pointer finger together and squinted.

"I don't think I can do this," I gulped.

My aunt gave me a look of frustration."Oh please. Born and raised here in mountain city; you hiked the grand canyon, and yellowstone by the time you were seven," She counted on her fingers. "I think you can handle this."

I sighed and adjusted the pack that hung loosely on my shoulders.

As we trekked further and further into the forest, all sense of direction seemed to deteriorate with every step we took. My aunt checked her compass every couple of minutes just to be sure we weren't digging ourselves into a hole we couldn't climb out of. The trail was fading but a shadow of what once was still remained barely visible. The atmosphere, while beautiful and serene, was eery. The only thing we heard for most of the hike was the echo of our own footsteps.

"Almost no one ever comes around these parts anymore," my aunt said, shaking her head. "So what, you get yourself caught in a few bear traps, eat some poisonous berries and get trampled by some moose. Big deal." She laughed to herself, but the thought of a moose crushing me to death with its dirt encrusted hooves didn't seem like the best way to spend my summer leisure time. I nodded and adjusted my backpack. The weight of it had been digging into my shoulders, and slowed me down a considerable amount. My aunt raised an eyebrow and held out her hand.

"Here, let me." She threw the pack over her shoulder on top of hers with a small grunt.

"Thanks," I said rubbing my shoulder. "That pack was killing me." I grinned sheepishly.

"Maybe it's time to set up shop, s'getting late," she said with a grunt. "Besides," she raised her eyebrows."It's moose feeding time."

I shivered looking around for any stray moose and etched a little closer to my aunt who began picking up the pace again.

Eventually, by the time the sun began to set, we'd already pitched the tent, rolled out the sleeping bags and refilled the water bottles.

"All we need now is a fire…" she frowned and stroked her chin thoughtfully.

"I wonder where we can find some of that, in the middle of the wilderness." She turned to me with a chuckle.

"I'm on the case chief," I said. With a quick salute, I turned on my heels, my large hiking boots digging into the dirt, and set off to find some firewood.

"Hey!" She yelled after me.

I turned quickly just in time to catch a large black flashlight. I laughed nervously and waved in the air.

"Seriously, don't be too long. It's easy to get lost in these parts, even with a torch."

I nodded. "I'll be back in five."

She smiled and turned back to the egg basket filed with pots and pans and began food preparations.

I exited the old campsite and began walking into the small clearing. I began to look for wood fit for a fire but with my luck, the only things in my path were an array of thin tree branches, with the leaves still attached. I held onto my flashlight and kept walking, determined to finish my simple task. The air was so quiet, that even the slightest step on a stick or dried up leaf created a hollow echo throughout the trees.

It was in this moment when I began to remember all the horror stories I'd been told about deep, dark woods; the ones that you tell kids to keep them out of trouble. Even though I knew they were all just a bluff, there was something about the way these trees seemed to be staring at me, how the moon's light began to dim as I was engulfed further into shadow. In a few moments everything was dark, and the campsite was nowhere to be found. I was lost.

I flashed my light on the trees, and to my horror, faces began to form from the sap stains crusting up on the bark. Bats scattered and squeaked, angry that I'd disturbed their nests. In my hurry to back away I tripped over a log and fell to the ground. I slowly pushed myself up, brushing a beetle off my bony wrist. There was a nasty cut on my knee and I was pretty sure my ankle had been twisted in some way or another. I groaned aloud and fell back to my knees. The dirt in the ground was cold, and I began to shiver in the frigid air. The eerie silence that suddenly befell the forest did nothing to ease my nerves.

I readjusted onto my bottom and examined my knees. The scrape was bad, blood began trickling down my leg as I pinched the skin. The first aid kit was in my backpack, back at the campsite. I sighed and tried to stand but it was no use, with my ankle in so much pain, I couldn't find my balance. So, there I stayed, in the quiet, my heart pounding. When I glanced down at the dirt, the pounding nearly stopped altogether. I saw an animal track. No, not just any animal track, a large wolfish paw print.

Suddenly, as if on cue, the hairs on the back of my head began to stand up straight on end. A light trail of goosebumps followed, all along my arms and legs, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched by someone, or something. I tried to fight back tears as I remained completely still. I heard the slightest twig snap, and a stream of sweat ran down my forehead. I knew something was there. Within seconds, I felt hot breath against my neck. Too afraid to turn my head, I willed myself to wake up from this nightmare, safe in my bedroom. I wished that this was all just a bad dream and that I'd wake up in my own bed safe and sound from harm. But this wasn't a horror movie, or a nightmare. This was really happening.

A low, raspy growl emerged from behind me and I slowly turned, meeting the harsh stare of two yellow eyes, as large as dinner plates. Its face was thin and boney, hairless, with a long snout closely resembling both a wolf and a man at the same time. It had large, pointed ears nearing the top of its skull that twitched and turned. As it stood I saw that it was at least seven feet tall. It was snarling, flecks of foam bubbled along its lips. The sides of its face were pulsating and veins stood out on its temple as it took its long, raspy breaths.

It didn't give me time to think. It lunged, I saw its gleaming fangs for a split second before I clumsily rolled to the side. I scrambled to my feet and tried to stumble away despite the burning sensation in my foot. I ran, fear coursing through my veins. I could hear its footsteps growing louder and louder behind me, and I imagined its foaming jaws inches from my neck.

I saw a light straight ahead of me, and I thought for a brief moment I could make it. But what then? Right before I could find out, the thing launched over my head and landed on its feet right in front of me. I gasped as it sprang forward and sank its teeth into my shoulder. I could barely think as it began dragging me, further from the light and closer to the darkness. I tried to kick free, but the beast's grip was too powerful. I swung my fist up against its jaw, but it only tightened its grip. I'd be feeling that one tomorrow, if tomorrow ever came. All I could do was scream.

In my last moment of consciousness I perceived a moonlit clearing. With a heavy grunt the beast dropped me in the dirt, face up. I desperately drank up the starry sky above me, knowing I would never stargaze again. The beast paced circles around me, I thought it was trying to find the best place to start digging in. I'd never seen something so awful in my life. Its shape was wolf-like, something I'd only ever seen in horror movies at the midnight drive-in. It looked extremely malnourished and rigid, barely able to stand on its own two feet. But its eyes lit up with anger and craze. It seemed so beast-like, and so human, all at once. It couldn't be…but if not, then what?

It didn't give me time to decide. It pounced, and as I felt the weight of its paws I began to faint. As its teeth nipped at the shoulder wound the stars overhead became blurry, and the clearing began to spin. I lost all sense of direction, all sense of logic. Will they find me? Will there be anything left? The fear and terror that rushed through my veins was incomprehensible, I didn't even realize I was screaming. What had I been worrying about before? A bad grade in algebra? Christ. I stopped fighting to stay awake.

That's when the miracle happened.

A loud gunshot cut through the air like a knife. The beast yowled in pain, and I felt the weight of it grow even heavier as it collapsed. I didn't have the strength, so I lay there, hoping that help had come. I heard the loud footsteps of two massive, booted feet clomp towards me.

"Gotcha," a gruff voice said from above.

I slowly felt the weight be lifted from my chest as the monster was pulled away. A large looking lumberjack of sorts loomed over me, a gun in the crook of his arm. The second he made eye contact with me, he jumped backwards.

"Sweet Mary mother of God," he grunted. Under his large, curly beard, his bottom lip quivered in surprise.

"H-h-h-elp," I managed to squeak, my throat hoarse from screaming.

He shook his head and bent down to examine me. "Jesus! You're still alive under there?" His northern accent was thick. I nodded slowly, every movement hurt.

He bent down, concern written across his face "Come on, little lady." He hoisted me up gently over his shoulder.

I grunted in pain thanking God for Paul Bunyan. As hard as I fought to stay awake, my eyes grew heavy, and my head began to droop. I slowly slipped into unconsciousness as he carried me away, god knows where.

I sat there, tears streaming down my cheeks, and waited for Dr. Hughes to respond.

"My, my," he said, shaking his head. He had since taken off his jacket and shoes, now sitting cross legged in his chair.

I shrugged.

"Yes, well, what happened next?" He asked, eyes wide.

"I…" it was hard to remember much after that. "I woke up in a small hospital. I guess it was some E.M.S wilderness shit." I stuck my middle and pointer finger between the furrows of my eyebrows and tried to remember. "I was there for two and a half weeks. When I got home, my mom cut off my aunt. Pretended like she wasn't part of our family anymore. They fought for weeks. I only got back in touch with her a couple months ago, when I turned eighteen."

Dr. Hughes nodded sympathetically. "Ah, the family jewels. My mum and Grandma Pilly kept me from contact with my Auntie Marge for ten years because she 'stole' our diamond encrusted tea pot," he stated matter of factly. "Turns out it was buried in the back yard the whole time!" He got a good chuckle out of his own family's misfortune.

I sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment before continuing. "…anyways," I said slowly. "After a couple of weeks, I started changing. Literally."

"Changing?" He asked, perking up slowly.

"Oh you know the usual. Hairy armpits, bigger boobs, mood swings…"

"Come now Molly, all of those are examples of puberty, initiated by hormone signals to the brain and the gonads, maturity and capability of sexual reproduction. It's all textbook, completely—"

"…increased appetite, increased hair growth, black outs," I interrupted. "Hyper sense of taste, smell and hearing…"

He stared blankly at me. "Abnormal. Curious." He said, with a gaping mouth and eyes open wide.

I nodded, flattening my lips.

"Tell me, Molly. How did you cope with all this madness?"

"To tell you the truth, Doc, I don't know," I sighed. "I was just holding out the best I could. It's a miracle I even graduated high school. I did have everything under control, though," I said, aware that I was trying to reassure myself more so than Dr. Hughes.

He snorted and let out a small, awkward chuckle. What a nerd this goon was turning out to be.

"Oh, I'm sure you did," he said. He tried to recompose himself as soon as he saw the frustrated expression on my face.

This man was irritating me. Of course I had everything under control… at least I thought I did.

"I read your case file. Two sets of broken ribs and three fractured spines?" He laughed even harder and slapped his knee lightly. "That's the bee's knees!" He said excitedly, looking at me like I'd just pulled a bunny out of thin air.

"Yeah," I said, a lot colder in fact, than I meant for it to be.

"Tell me…" he said, straightening his suit and adjusting his tie. "…about your family."

I looked at him blankly. "What's there to tell?"

"How about we begin with your parents?" He crossed his legs and steepled his fingers.

"I don't really have the best relationship with them. I mean, I used to get along great with my dad when I was little…but…"

He nodded in encouragement and began to write down short snippets onto the piece of paper on his clipboard.

"…things change."

"And your mother?"

"Oh, god. Don't even get me started on her. All she ever tried to do was control my brother and me. Benjamin moved out a couple years ago after he finished college. Lucky bastard."

"It's safe for me to assume, that Benjamin is your older brother?" He asked.

"That's right. He's six years older than me. But we were always really close when I was little—and we still kinda are now. I mean, ever since my dad…" I broke off suddenly, recalling my dysfunctional family situation. I remained silent and began to twiddle my thumbs.

"Since you dad, what, Molly?" He said, a little bit quieter this time.

I began to speak, many times, but I couldn't find the right words.

"It's…complicated."

"Ah. An estranged father?"

I nodded and made an uncomfortable face.

"You could say that." Estranged. It was an ugly word that didn't sit right with me.

"Estranged means—some kind of—of closure."

"So, an ending left open? A hole? A gap in your narrative?"

"There was no explanation. Nothing at all." I shook my head, the same feeling of abandonment and confusion I felt the day it all began. "One day, he was just…gone."

Dr. Hughes sighed and nodded, with a look of grave understanding on his face.

"Were your parents having problems?"

"God no, nothing like that, he just went on a hiking trip with my aunt—"

"The very aunt that you embarked on this close to fatal expedition with?"

"…Doc it wasn't nearly a 'fatal expedition'," I air quoted with my fingers. "But, yes."

"And then, whoosh!" He motioned with both his hands, mimicking windshield wipers. "Gone without a trace." He thought for a moment. "Did you ever consider that it was a government conspiracy?"

"What? No! My dad wasn't into anything like that. That's crazy!"

"Maybe," he raised his eyebrow. "But I'll bet you didn't in your wildest dreams believe that a place like this exists," he smiled smugly.

"Well okay. I can honestly say that even in my wildest dreams, I never thought that I would become some bloodthirsty monster, kidnapped and held hostage in some kind of secret government prison run by a paranoid military cook."

"Is that what this is?" He said. "I was under the impression that this was a psych ward for the supernatural," he chuckled to himself.

"You're not funny," I grouched, crossing my arms.

"Molly," he said. "It appears that you have two choices here. Either I can help you out, or you can fight against me the whole way. If I were you, I'd go with option one."

"Look, Doc, I appreciate what you're trying to do here—I guess—but I don't need some psycho analysis. I need to find the cure for my…" I paused. "…condition." I said, slowly. "So, thanks, but no thanks. I'll just tell Monger that since I clearly won't be here for long, I don't really need therapy. So, I'll just be leaving," I said, beginning to stand up. I stumbled over a few toys, my foot had fallen asleep for sitting cross-legged for so long

"I'm afraid that won't do you too much good. Like I said, it's facility policy as of 2009 for all inhabitants to have a quarterly therapy session to help…" he looked closer at his clipboard and read aloud. "…'learn and utilize coping skills in new or stressful situations, further develop emotional understanding' and…" he held the board at a farther distance with a look of confusion on his face. "'Earn a greater understanding of the human race and how to interact and develop non-monster relationships'." He smiled and sat back crossing his legs.

I groaned and sat back down with a huff.

"I'd like to circle back around to your mother, if that's alright with you." He said, kindly.

"Fire away, Doc," I said in a monotone.

"Family seems to be a pretty touchy subject, you mother in particular. Why is that?"

"Why?" I laughed. The mere thought of my mother exhausted me beyond comprehension. "She's batshit crazy, she's controlling…and she doesn't care about me."

"Good thing you're a werewolf, eh?" James chuckled loudly and cleared his throat as soon as he caught wind of my unamused expression. "Right, er—go on."

"I mean, when I was like, —I don't know— twelve? She grounded me for a month because I flunked a states quiz in U.S. history class."

"Jiminy Cricket!" He said. "I never did memorize all forty-eight states. That one with all the horses up north always gave me trouble."

"That's great. I'm getting counseling from a man who can't identify 'Montana'." I shook my head and rubbed my temples.

"Who's she?" I frowned. I had a sneaking suspicion that James was in fact incapable of telling apart an apple from an orange.

"Jesus, forget it."

"Yes, well," he cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should move on to more pressing matters." I nodded slowly.

"Okay, like?" I asked.

"I have a splendid face chart! A wide variety of emotions to pick and choose from! Yes," he clapped his hands together and rummaged around in his steel grey cabinet, that clashed awfully with the brightly colored walls. "'What is your emotion, today'?" He read from the top. He held it out for me to see.

I raised my eyebrows at the simply drawn faces on the laminated chart.

"This is so first grade," I mumbled. Reluctantly, I pointed to a face on the leftmost column.

"Moody?" He asked.

"I guess."

"The department of MR gave me a set list of questions to ask as well, with the corresponding starter's packet." He pulled out a large stack of papers stapled together tightly.

"'MR'?" I remarked. He stopped looking through the pack and looked at me.

"Monster Resources of course! They were hired as a team to keep in check the rights and privileges of monsters being held in this facility. Not established until fairly recently…" he rubbed the back of his neck. "Let's begin shall we?" He asked hastily, holing the first page on his clipboard.

"Sure," I groaned inwardly.

"'I feel well cared for.' 'Strongly agree, agree, disagree or strongly disagree'?" He read aloud.

"Uh, agree?" I said shrugging. He made a marking on the paper.

"I am being administered the medication I require. 'Strongly agree, agree, disagree or strongly disagree'?"

"I don't have medication…" I said dryly.

"Strongly disagree, it is." He said checking off the box. I shook my head and sat back in my chair and made myself comfortable. This could take a while.


End file.
